Tuesday Evening
by TuesV
Summary: Kyle is worried about Stan. Stan wonders why he and Kyle don't have the same kinds of interests as their other friends. High school, Style, slash, drug use, lemon in chapter 2. 2 chapters only. Hurrah!
1. Chapter 1

I don't have any notes, but submissions look weird without something here up top. Mission complete!

Second (and final) chapter later this week.

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"You're gonna get those photos tomorrow, whenever you come by." Stan chewed his gum and stared at the woman standing in front of the counter.

She shifted. "Tomorrow? The sign says it takes two hours."

He looked up at the clock. "We close at five." Stan turned back to look at her, and watched her face go from upset to angry.

"I needed these printed tonight. You shouldn't offer two hour printing if you close in the middle of the goddamn day." She tapped her fingernails on the counter and looked around behind Stan to see if she could find a manager

Stan shrugged. He pulled at his beanie, covering more of his hair. "I can give 'em back to you." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kyle walk through the door. He nodded acknowledgement towards him.

"No, fine. I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning." The woman huffed, before turning heel and angrily walking out.

Kyle walked up to the counter and leaned on it. "What the fuck was that about?" He picked up a pamphlet about photo developing options, looked at it for a second, and threw it aside.

"Who knows." Stan shook his head. "Hey, I'm heading out," he shouted across the room to Craig, who nodded and gave a little wave. Stan turned his attention to Kyle. "Kenny coming out?" Walking around the counter, the two of them made their way to the doors and out to the street.

Kyle laughed. "Not so sure. He's got some girl over there, I think." Stan smiled and shook his head, not surprised. "And fuck Cartman, man, after last time I'm not even trying with him. "

Stan laughed quietly. He lowered his head against the wind and held his arms closer to his body. shoving his hands in his pockets. A t-shirt was probably a bad decision for today. "You know, Kyle, I'm pretty sure we've said that before."

"Yeah, but we should really try this time. He's such an asshole. You cool with my house?" Stan nodded in agreement, looking like he'd just be glad to get inside. "Alright. My parents might be home, but whatever."

They walked in silence to Kyle's house, the wind steadily getting colder. Winter in South Park was pretty brutal most years, and this one was coming in fast. When they finally got to Kyles house, Stan hopped up and down while Kyle fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the door. They kicked off their shoes in the mud room and Kyle yelled through the dining room and kitchen, checking for his parents. "Not home, I guess."

"Cool. So, Grand Theft Auto?" Stan asked, still shivering a little. Kyle nodded, and the two of them bound up the stairs noisily heading towards his room. Stan threw himself on the Futon while Kyle put the game on. "So, who's Kenny fuckin' now?"

Kyle grinned, and stepped backwards to the couch before sitting down, handing the second controller to Stan. "I dunno, man. I have some guesses, but I'm never sure with him. He sounded pretty pleased with himself, though."

"He always does." Stan laughed, waiting for the game to load. It was true. Kenny had become some sort of rock star at the high school - the strange mix of redneck twang, fearlessness, and some pretty honest compassion was making girls in every class fall all over themselves for him. Kenny, a good guy in general but not so much when faced with tits, was really taking advantage of the spike in interest. Cartman hated it, and tried constantly to usurp power by flaunting his letterman jacket and screaming loudly about his successes on the field, which was a joke. Stan was always quick to remind him that they just needed a fatass to park in front of the other team. It usually devolved into fist fights pretty quickly.

Stan and Kyle were relatively cool, thanks to Kenny, mostly. Stan got plenty of interested girls asking around about him, but he just couldn't conjure up any interest. He'd become pretty reserved the past few years, so the idea of having to get close to someone seemed downright terrifying. Kyle had a recurring thing with some girl named Ashley. Stan didn't pay much attention.

"You wanna smoke?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged. "If you're offering." Being in high school meant pot was still a pretty hot commodity and Kyle wasn't about to turn down a freebie.

"Whatever. I've got a bit left, who am I going to smoke it with if not you?" It was true. Stan didn't really have any other close friends. Even Kenny was a little bit...much. Good in small doses, but unless you wanted to go muddin' on a Wednesday afternoon with three girls you didn't really know, it wasn't a match. "You got a piece?" He paused, then laughed. "No, of course you don't. Never mind, I have some papers." He pulled off his beanie and grabbed a small bag and a rolling paper out of it.

"You're a fucking weed magician." Kyle grinned at him and at the idea that Stan's hat perpetually had the tools to get high in it.

"You know it," Stan said, carefully rolling the paper between his fingers, squinting and occasionally pinching here or there.

Kyle couldn't use rolling papers for shit, so he was fascinated by how easy Stan made it look. He knew that Stan had a lot more practice, having cultivated a little bit more of the "bad guy" reputation around school. At some point he'd become less talkative, slouchier. He gave smoldering looks and laughed quietly to himself over things, like he knew something funny that no one else would get. Girls, of course, found it enticing. Kyle thought it was an annoying phase but was still jealous of how cool the whole image was. They didn't really talk about any of it, and Kyle often didn't know where Stan was or who he was with after school. Sometimes he worried that Stan was taking the image too far, so he kept a close eye on him at parties, lest he duck into a basement that was offering up more than schoolyard weed. He may have been acting like a total idiot, but he was still Stan, and Kyle knew it was his job to watch his back.

Stan ran his tongue over the paper and Kyle got a weird chill up his spine that he couldn't quite recognize. He paused the finally-loaded game, stood up and walked to his desk, throwing the controller down behind him. He grabbed a lighter from his desk and tossed it in the air a few times before Stan looked over and held his hand out for it. "I'm surprised your mother hasn't confiscated that contraband."

"I tell her it's for lighting candles. For some reason she believed that." Kyle watched as Stan lit the joint and inhaled, holding down the smoke while he shook his head and smiled.

He let the puff of smoke out with a laugh. "God, denial is so powerful." Stan held out the joint to Kyle. Kyle took it, and in an instant knew that he could finally get some answers from Stan if he just Bill Clintoned it. Kyle grinned, held the joint to his mouth, and mimicked holding it in. Stan was looking down at his hands, so he didn't even have to try to fake it too hard. He handed the joint back to Stan.

After a few hits back and forth, Stan could feel himself getting that numb, warm feeling he loved so much. He rolled his head back and sighed, glad to put some stress aside. "So," he heard Kyle saying, and snapped his attention back. "Who'd this come from?"

Stan took another hit. "Some guy Craig knows. Friends with kids from the community college." He looked down at the joint. "You good? That got me high faster than I expected."

Kyle nodded, and Stan pinched out the ember on the end, resting the remaining half of the joint on Kyle's side table. "So, is that who you were going to that thing with?"

Stan looked over to Kyle, feeling a little disoriented. "What? What thing?"

"You said you have a thing you are doing this weekend. Is it a thing with Craig's friend?" Kyle sat back down on the futon.

Stan nodded. "Yeah, just some stupid fucking party. You can come if you want, I hate these guys."

"So why are you going?"

"I dunno," Stan groaned. "They have acid, and I was hoping to get some."

Kyle laughed. "I did acid once. When I was younger, that time in California. Still, you shouldn't fuck around with it too much." Stan just laughed, absent-mindedly. "So...dude, you've been so...weird recently."

Stan shook his head to focus. "Sorry. Why have I been weird?"

"That was kind of what I was asking you. But, you know, man, you've been so...spaced. Quiet. You don't really talk anymore." Kyle carefully watched to see how Stan would take this statement.

"Yeah," Stan said lazily. "You ever jealous of Kenny?" He asked. If Stan was changing the subject purposefully or just because he was high, Kyle wasn't sure.

"What, the girls? I dunno, maybe, man. I don't think about it."

Stan nodded. "Yeah, me neither. You've got that Ashley, though."

Kyle looked at Stan, who had a hesitant grin on his face like he wasn't sure what expression to put on. "Nah. I mean, yeah, but we're just friends. We hooked up once or twice, but mostly we just hang out sometimes."

"Yeah?" Stan's smile faltered. "Why's that?"

Kyle shrugged, wondering if maybe he should have just gotten high. This didn't seem to be working. "I dunno. I'm just not that into her."

Stan shifted so that he could look at Kyle in the eyes. "Now, why do you think we don't care about Kenny's track record with girls?" Kyle gave him a blank look. "Why do we just avoid thinking about it? Why don't we have girlfriends? Why don't we talk about girls? We should be, at our age, right?" He shook his head and grinned, returning to his own thoughts. His questions had been earnest but had a rhetorical sound to them.

"I mean, I guess, man. I don't know." Kyle mumbled, embarrassed by the questions and anything that they could imply. "None of it feels right. I guess I'm just waiting for the girl that makes it feel right."

Stan licked his lips and his tongue felt heavy. He really wanted some water but battled through the unfortunate side effect. "Listen," he proposed.

Kyle laughed. "Oh god, every good high idea starts with an encouraging 'listen'."

"Not a high idea," Stan argued, though Kyle was anything but convinced. "I thought this one up a while ago." He shifted into a more comfortable position and was quiet for a minute. He took a breath. "You know you're my best friend. And that's important. So I want to make sure I'm getting the right...clearances. To do this."

"...clearances?" Kyle asked, with no idea where this was going but felt his stomach give an instinctive flutter. Somehow his body knew to feel nervous before his mind caught up.

"Shut up, you know what I mean. I mean...Okay, listen. Don't freak right away. I'll explain. But I think we should kiss. Just to, you know, see if there's a reason nothing else feels right. I mean, not to be gay. Well, sort of, but, I just mean-"

"Okay." Kyle answered simply, cutting him off. He was at full attention, alarming himself with the feelings he instantly felt when Stan made his suggestion.

"Wait...you don't want..." Stan looked confused.

"No, I don't need you to explain it. I understand. So, now?" Kyle asked, suddenly wanting nothing more than to start trying.

Almost breathlessly, Stan said "yeah, definitely now." He scooted closer to Kyle on the futon. Kyle leaned in, his cheeks bright red, and the two of them hesitated for just a moment. Kyle laughed a little, and Stan just mumbled "oh, fuck it," and their lips met in a soft, quick kiss. They lingered for a moment before sitting back. "Dude, I'm pretty high."

"Yeah?" Kyle looked worried.

Stan shifted. "Yeah. I want to...whatever. Never mind. That was cool."

"I thought so too. So..." Kyle was confused about what was happening. "Aw, shit, dude, I'm not high. So I'm completely clear on what I'm doing. Are you?"

"You're high." Stan said. He looked at Kyle and squinted. "Wait, you aren't high? Well fuck then, get high. Or not. Your call, I guess." The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, looking around the room. "High or not, I want to kiss you again."

"Yeah?" Kyle raised his eyebrows, barely suppressing a grin. Stan just nodded, playing it amazingly cool. Kyle thought about it. The overwhelming creepiness of doing anything with someone who was high and not being high yourself won out, and he picked up the leftover joint. "For the record," he said, before lighting it and taking a hit, "...I don't need to be high..." he strained to speak while holding in the smoke. He exhaled and looked back to Stan. "I just don't want to be creepy."

"I get ya," Stan said, and nodded. Kyle took a few more hits, then efficiently put the joint out. Before he could adjust to the feelings of the high, he felt Stan's hands on either side of his face, guiding Kyle to his lips.

Kyle exhaled, almost as though he were relieved. And in a way, he was. Kissing Stan felt weirdly right. He didn't have too much brain capacity to devote to figuring out why that would be, because most of it was being used to focus in on Stan's tongue slowly trailing over his bottom lip, asking for permission. Kyle obliged and met Stan's eagerness with his own, exploring Stan's mouth with his tongue.

The small fire that had been burning in Stan responded to the taste of Kyle's mouth, the feel of his tongue against Stan's, every little sensation, as though a can of gasoline had been thrown directly on top of it. He tried not to get ahead of himself, not wanting to scare Kyle off, but Kyle was showing no signs of worry. Clutching at the fabric of Stan's shirt with one hand, the other hand on the back of Stan's head as if he couldn't seem to kiss him deeply enough, Kyle seemed to be pretty game for what was happening.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is waaaay too long, but I can't rush these fellas. Sex with someone you know that well is just too awkward to make it all cutesy and short.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Just something fun I wanted to do while I was sick and didn't have anything better to do. Drop me a line if you have any requests - I pick up fandoms like no one's business.

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Stan had no idea what he was doing. Or, at the very least, that's what he kept telling himself. Even with Kyle's tongue in his mouth, he had trouble admitting to himself that this was something he'd wanted for a long time. It wasn't that he didn't want to think of himself as gay - though it wouldn't be the easiest situation as a teenage boy - he just didn't want to think of himself as someone who'd harbored feelings for his best friend for so long. To Stan, it almost felt like betrayal. He was supposed to tell Kyle everything. He knew that it was the reason he'd shut himself off a little at a time. He knew it was the reason he couldn't see Kyle every day after school, like he used to. He'd never thought it outright, but something about the combination of being high and feeling Kyle's breath, hot on his face, let him admit it to himself.

Stan moved his hands around Kyle, gently pulling at the bottom of his shirt, moving closer. He moved his mouth to Kyle's neck - he was afraid to break the kiss, lest he bring Kyle out of some kind of trance, but all of that sensitive skin, that soft, forbidden landscape of his best friend, it was too much to handle. Now might be his only chance to explore. Stan trailed his lips heavily down, pausing to leave haphazard kisses on Kyle's jaw, down to his adam's apple. He placed his lips on the soft skin above where Kyle's pulse throbbed, feeling the rhythm beat steadily, albeit faster than usual. Stan gently sucked on Kyle's skin until he heard a hitch in his breath, and then returned to his mouth, kissing him deeply.

Stan grabbed Kyle's thigh, and as they kissed he worked his hand up to where his jeans were straining against his erection. "Jesus Christ, man," he whispered, before pressing in with his palm. Kyle moaned softly, and then looked embarrassed over the sound. Stan wanted to give some sort of encouraging, light hearted laugh but the sound of Kyle's moan was ringing in his ears, making it impossible to think straight. He moved his leg around Kyle, intertwining their bodies so their chests pressed together, and ran his hands up Kyle's back, under his shirt, feeling the warm skin. "Can I take this off of you?" he asked, breathlessly.

Kyle nodded, helping Stan guide his shirt off. He saw the look in Stan's eyes as he took in what he was seeing- they had seen one another shirtless plenty of times, but this was different. "You too," he managed, before letting out a gasp as Stan kissed along his shoulder. Stan nodded and instantly pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. All of that perfect skin seemed impossible to Kyle, and he momentarily just stared - both out of awe and general highness. He reached a hand out and laid it on Stan's chest. "Holy fuck." was all he had to say, before going back in for Stans mouth with such aggression that he knocked him over.

The two of them laid side by side, Kyle's leg draped over Stan as they kissed. Stan felt Kyle rocking his hips slowly against him, and returned the favor. The pressure was almost too much, and before long they were aggressively grinding into one another, breaking their mouths apart only for the occasional half-suppressed moan.

"Dude," Kyle said, jerking suddenly to a stop after one particularly noticeable outcry. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair, pausing for a moment with his head in his palm.

Stan immediately went rigid, wondering if he had taken it too far. Then again, Kyle was pretty much an equal part in this. "Sorry, man..."

Kyle grinned, but looked nervous. "Shut up, Stan, I just...we..." he closed his eyes and tried to find the words. "I don't know how to do this."

"Oh...no, it's okay, I can leave if you want." Stan felt his heart pounding, not sure what was going on, but feeling more comfortable with going immediately on the defense.

"Stan! I mean...I don't know where to go from...here." Kyle pulled at a string on the edge of the futon. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears. He wasn't prepared for a conversation like this. If either of them backed out now, their friendship could very well be destroyed. It was a thought he couldn't really handle.

"Oh...Oh!" Stan said, his eyes getting wide. "Neither do I. I mean, I guess I do. But..."

"Yeah. It makes it a little bit complicated. Have you...thought about this?"

Stan, too busy thinking about the implications of everything Kyle was saying, didn't think to answer the question at all coyly, instead just nodding and saying "Yeah."

Kyle gave a small laugh, and for a moment appreciated the fact that he was high. If he weren't, this would have been dizzyingly confusing. "Good to know." He watched Stan, who appeared to have gotten lost in a thought. "Wait, have you done this before?"

That got Stan's attention. "What? No! Not at all. I meant I've thought of...you. Not guys. You."

It was such an absurd situation that Kyle almost couldn't help but roll his eyes. The sexscape for teenagers was complicated for everyone, no matter what, it seemed. "Well, I've thought of you," he said, settling back into Stan, kissing him on the mouth. He trailed his hands down Stan's chest, and paused on the button of his jeans. He popped it open without much trouble, and eased the zipper down, sliding his hands into the front of Stan's jeans. He felt Stan's erection straining against his cotton boxer-briefs, and gently wrapped his fist around it and squeezed. Encouraged by the throaty groan Stan had given, no doubt unintentionally, Kyle took a breath and pushed his hand under the elastic band. He wrapped his hand around it again, this time feeling the hot skin, taut and smooth. After a few rhythmic strokes he removed his hand.

"You're gonna need to...pull these down. Take them off. Whatever," he mumbled. Stan nodded and bit his lip as he lifted his hips to slide them off. Before long, Kyle had to deal with the fact that his best friend was sitting next to him completely unclothed. He couldn't help but stare. Stan looked a little uncomfortable, and Kyle realized that he had to make a move. He placed his hand on Stan's thigh, and leaned in to kiss him again. Stan kissed back slowly, seeming almost paralyzed by nerves. Kyle grinned, strangely empowered by this thought, and slowly kissed down Stan's neck. He continued on to his chest, listening to Stan's ragged breathing, immensely enjoying the newfound power.

When Kyle's mouth moved lower, kissing along the thin trail of hair on his lower stomach, Stan went completely rigid. "Dude...you...you don't have..." he stammered. But Kyle, feeling like he had a handle on the situation at last, cut him off as he slowly pressed his tongue against the underside of Stan's shaft. Stan gasped. Kyle was kind of shocked himself - he expected it to be more foreign and strange, but no, it was just skin. Armed with the fact, and the ability to totally halt his best friend's breathing, he felt infinitely more comfortable. He wrapped his mouth against the head of Stan's erection and gently sucked, tasting the barely-salty precum that had pooled at the top.

Stan dug his heels into the carpet as Kyle started into a rhythm, occasionally flicking his tongue over the head, causing Stan to make noises he'd never heard himself make. All of his reflexes tried to make him close his eyes, but instead he kept them glued on Kyle, unable to believe what he was watching. He gently rested a hand on Kyle's upper back and watched as his friend bobbed up and down, sucking his cock damn near professionally for a first-timer. Watching Kyle was almost too much, though, and within minutes Stan began to feel the heat building up inside of him. "Kyle...Kyle!"

Stan heard a small pop as Kyle pulled him from his mouth. He looked up at stan, lips red and eyes slightly watering. "Fuck man, where did you learn to do that?"

"I have a dick, idiot." Kyle rolled his eyes, sitting back up. "You don't want me to..."

Stan shifted. "No, man, I want to..." he paused. He leaned over and kissed Kyle, absentmindedly, while trying to find the right words.

"Stan, just...what? We're in it now. No reason to be shy about it." He lazily wrapped his hand around Stan's erection and kissed at his neck.

"So...do you want to fuck me?" Stan asked in such a weirdly innocent way - head tilted away in embarrassment, eyes focused on Kyle with raw earnestness - that it made Kyle struggle to suppress years and years of conditioning to call him a fag.

"Yeah. More than just about anything. Are you sure you want me to be the one who...you know?" Kyle was already looking around the room for any type of lubrication, ready to get this thing started.

Stan grinned. "Yeah, but you gotta take your fuckin' pants off first. " Before he could even finish, Kyle was fumbling with his belt. Stan leaned in to catch Kyles lips, which made it harder for Kyle to deal with the process, but he wasn't complaining. "There's lotion over on your desk," Stan mumbled lowly between kisses.

"Right..." Kyle said, jumping up and getting it, not wanting to interrupt later. He sat it down on the floor beside the futon and kicked off his jeans before throwing himself back down, taking Stan down with him. The two got back to where they had been, grinding into one another, this time their erections pressing into bare flesh.

Stan raked his fingernails over the skin of Kyle's back and tried not to focus too much on Kyle's mouth as it made its way around his neck and chest. "Come on man, we gotta get this going or I'm not going to make it."

Kyle grinned and nipped at Stan's collar bone. "Yes sir," he said, reaching down. He grabbed the lotion and put some into his hand, settling between Stan's legs. He looked down at Stan, who looked nervous, but curious about what was happening. "Dude...I'm going to have to...get you ready, ya know?"

Stan leaned his head back and took a deep breath in. "Just do it, man."

Kyle nodded. He didn't know much of anything about what he was doing, but he knew enough from internet articles - this wasn't an activity reserved for a man. Rubbing the lotion across his fingers, he readied himself for what he was about to do. Stan's eyes fluttered shut as Kyle pressed a finger against him and slowly pressed in. Kyle watched Stan's face carefully as he pushed further in and slowly pulled back out before repeating the process. "Give me some feedback here, dude."

"Weird," was all Stan said. Kyle took that as better than 'bad,' and continued to move his finger in and out slowly. Eventually Stan seemed to relax a little, making it easier. Kyle bit his lip as he added a second finger, and slowly worked the two in and out.

Kyle took a wild guess, based on rumors, the internet, and snips he'd heard from conversations, and hooked a finger gently as he stroked Stan from the inside. Stan responded by bucking his hips, shivering, and emitting a small noise that could have possibly conveyed pleasure. "Good thing?" he asked.

"Definitely a good thing," Stan responded, opening his eyes to look up at Kyle. "Okay man, I'm kind of missing your mouth up here. I think I'm...good to go."

Kyle nodded and added some additional lotion to both himself and Stan. He leaned down, situating himself so he was pressed against Stan's opening. He put his mouth on Stan's as he slowly pushed forward with his hips. Stan groaned into his mouth, a mix of pain and hesitant pleasure. As Kyle drove in further, the warmth of Stan pressing down on him was almost too much - he emitted a low, throaty moan. "Jesus Christ, Stan," he managed, in a whisper.

Stan winced as Kyle pulled back and then proceeded to push himself in, faster this time. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was taking some getting used to. As Kyle found a steady rhythm it became easier. "You okay, man?" Kyle hissed from behind clenched teeth.

"Yeah, I'm -" Stan was cut off by his own sudden gasp as Kyle found that sweet spot inside of him again. The heat shot through his body, rendering him unable to speak.

Kyle rested his forehead against Stan's, feeling the coolness of the sweat gathering there. His face was twisted into an open-mouth smile, and Stan reached up to claim his best friend's lips. Kyle twisted his hands through Stan's hair as he rocked their bodies together. Stan ran his hands across Kyle's back, feeling as though he couldn't get close enough.

They were headlong in it now, no longer concerned about trying to silence their appreciative sounds, moaning freely into one another, grabbing whatever they could grab. Stan couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of Kyle driving himself again and again into his most sensitive spot. He bit the skin of Kyle's shoulder, ran his hand through Kyle's hair, whispered his name. "Kyle...Jesus Kyle, fuck me," he moaned, and Kyle grunted as he drove himself harder into Stan.

Stan wasn't going to make it much longer, and he could tell my Kyle's staggered breathing that he was close to the edge as well. He almost couldn't handle the idea of it being over, but he knew it was quickly coming to the end. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on the sensation, letting the heat build in him until it was too much. "Kyle, I'm gonna..." he tried to manage, but cut himself off, his mouth forming a silent scream as he came between them.

Kyle followed him almost instantly, albeit a bit more loudly, before collapsing on top of Stan, breathing heavily. "You got off?" Kyle asked after a minute, still a bit out of breath.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stan laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Dude, get off me, you're crushing me."

Kyle laughed, sloppily kissed Stan on the mouth, and rolled over to the side. "Whoa."

"You're tellin' me." Stan sighed. "I totally need to use your shower. This is some sticky fucking business."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, I imagine it's worse for you. So...is this...a thing, now?"

"What, are you asking me if we're going steady?" Stan grinned. "Fag."

"I'm not the one that just took a huge dick up my ass."

"Whoa, gross overstatement. 'Huge'? You wish." Kyle punched him in the arm, eyes gleaming. "I'm not even a little bit high anymore." He looked down at his hands and picked at a hangnail. "But...yeah. I'm in for making this...a regular thing. If that's something you'd want. And not just the sex...but, you know. Being a thing."

Kyle nodded. "Not to get all faggy like a certain someone, but you know...this is something I'd be more than happy to keep up with. No offence, though, man, I'm not ready to take this public or anything."

"Oh, fuck no," Stan shook his head rapidly. "Dude, can you imagine what Cartman would say?"

"Who cares what fatass thinks. But...yeah. I see your point. Anyway, let's get cleaned up before my parents get back from wherever the hell they are."

"Sure thing. I've got a little more here, so after words we can get high again and actually play Grand Theft Auto this time." Stan stood up and found his jeans and pulled them on.

Kyle watched his friend throw on some clothes, and started to do the same himself. If this is how it was going to be - smoking, playing video games, ribbing one another, and getting to put the moves on Stan whenever he wanted - he really couldn't understand why this hadn't happened ages ago. "Dude," he said, as Stan started to head for the door.

"Yeah?" Stan turned back, and Kyle leaned in to catch his lips one last time before they left the room. Kyle grinned stupidly as they parted and Stan gently hit him in the chest. "What?"

"Nothing. Just feels...right, ya know?"

"Yeah, man. I know."


End file.
